


A Silvery Strand of a Spider's Web

by TSerpillum



Series: The Silvery Strands of a Spider's Web - Reincarnation AU [1]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Human Sacrifice, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Reincarnation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-09
Updated: 2019-01-09
Packaged: 2019-10-07 09:51:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17363747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TSerpillum/pseuds/TSerpillum
Summary: "Everything is connected, like a delicate web. Ever growing, ever changing. New silvery strands come together every day, and once the strand is formed, no matter what superficial circumstances may sometimes keep you apart, it is never broken. You will meet again, perhaps in another lifetime. The connection is unbreakable, lying dormant in your subconscious."CHELSIE SHAKESPEARE, The PullAfter the awakening happens, the part of them left in another time can only be regained by fulfilling the connection.  As a published writer, Mike Zacharias wrote the scenario of fulfilling it in the many possible ways he could come up with, replaying the scenarios in head over and over again.However, the one he overlooked gets presented to him by Levi Ackerman, the man who remembers too.A late night call. The promise of a lifetime ago. The harsh reality of another world.





	A Silvery Strand of a Spider's Web

**Author's Note:**

> Recommended listen to reading this work: Meg Myers - Tourniquet

_Everything is connected, like a delicate web. Ever growing, ever changing. New silvery strands come together every day, and once the strand is formed, no matter what superficial circumstances may sometimes keep you apart, it is never broken. You will meet again, perhaps in another lifetime. The connection is unbreakable, lying dormant in your subconscious._

CHELSIE SHAKESPEARE,  _The Pull_

 

 

Through the stream of running water, he doesn’t hear the intro to Stratovarius’ _Black Diamond_ , announcing an incoming call. Instead he finishes washing his hair and body, getting rid of the sticky feeling of sweat on his skin. The long work out was just what he needed, an effective way to calm the frustrations piling up within him. The scent of camomile threads through the dampness of the small space, the label on the bottle saying anti-stress. So the nice lady in the little herbal shop on the corner to the market place didn’t lie, he figures, feeling his muscles gradually relaxing under the lukewarm water. Trusting her, he picked up a product _she_ would surely like, in a shop that would fit her aesthetic. It’s one more point he adds on his imaginary list of what he’ll show her once they meet.

The towels in the bathroom are all of the same light lilac color, an unopened extra sensitive toothbrush in the cabinet put beside the female hair care products he has purchased online, believing they would be to her liking. That’s how he chooses everything, from the furniture to the napkins, over the doormat to the way he stores his clothes and shoes. She’ll need space for hers and he imagines that she’ll own quite a few pairs.

Still, no matter his effort to make himself a home in between those walls, it felt cold, and Mike is aware that this will be the status quo as long as the connection remains unfulfilled.

With a sigh, he drapes himself in the right bath towels hanging beside the sink (the left one is reserved for her), reaching for the smaller one placed above the bath towels to dry off his hair. Sometimes the days go by in a haze; he loses track of them easily, so it occurs that he forgets things, like making an appointment with his hairdresser. At least he keeps his beard trimmed, he mused in the empty space, grateful for the black hairties his niece always leaves around his flat. With his hair reaching his chin now, it’s easy to tie it up when he can’t stand it getting in his face.

It’s November, the season of heavy rainfall and melancholy, of mornings when he feels slightly hungover without any per milles in his blood. It takes him longer to awaken from the dreams in which she’s beside him; only if he extends his arm, there she’ll be – safely tucked into his side, her head resting above his heart.

Just like before.

\--

“Whadda hell do ya want of that kid?”, Kenny grimaces standing in the exit, refusing to leave. “Gonna steel her toy?”, he grinned down at Levi, strangely amused with his mood.

Levi’s jaw is tense and his hands tight fists, obviously on the edge of his patience with this cocky fucker.

“You shitty excuse of a cop”, he growls with a glare, “go take care of the rest of the business. We’re fine here.”

“Kenny, Levi - language!”, Kuchel scolds approaching them in swift steps. “This is barely the right place for such behaviour.”

“Sorry mum, didn’t recognize you”, Kenny extends his arms in mock surrender. “And since when can yer runt order me around?”

“Since you started slacking off”, Kuchel states bluntly, “Now go finish the job. We have enough work on our hands here.”

“A’right, a’right.” With a dismissive wave, Kenny adjusts his hat and steps outside in the rain, sprinting to the car parked diagonally in the lot.

Mother and son follow him with their narrowed gazes, only the drumming of the rain filling the silence.

When the cold creeps beneath their clothing, Kuchel interrupts the eeriness of the forest surrounding them.

“He didn’t call back?”

Her hand is resting on his shoulder, expectant eyes meeting his tired ones.

“The bastard’s probably still at the gym.”

Slender fingers grasp for the phone in the hoodie pocket, quickly typing a message.

_It’s urgent. Call back asap._

Hitting send, he looks at his mother who motions him to get back inside the Ackerman house.

 

\--

Beside the empty mug, the journal lies open before him enduring the little hits of the mute end of the pen . For fucks sake, he left it untouched for 10 days straight and now he has to deal with a mental constipation. It’s a term he picked up from Levi, as the guy has lines which are unmatched and painfully true. Writer’s block is surely a pain in the ass.

When all attempts turn out futile, it weighs heavily on the mind. It feels like he has spent all his words on the previous pages, with nothing more to add than a single word written angrily in capital letters - unsuccessful.

With the deadline coming closer, his foul mood only intensified. Perhaps it was a bad idea to turn Hanji’s invitation down. A night out could have brought him some fresh air and inspiration and he’d feel more productive than sitting half naked on the kitchen table in futile attempts to write, freezing his ass off for nothing. Taking the empty mug to put it in the sink, he walks over to his bedroom to put some clothes on. The glowing display of his phone claims his attention but he doesn’t hurry to take a look at it. Most likely it’s Hanji with the newest meme as he didn’t expect anyone else to either call or message him this evening. He picked his favourite jogpants and sweatshirt for lazy evenings, put them on as well as the fresh pair of socks, before turning his attention to his phone again.

 The notification glares at him in the darkness of his room.

 Three missed calls from Levi and a message.

_It’s urgent. Call back asap._

The lack of snark in his tone makes Mike’s stomach drop.  Snatching it from his nightstand, he calls back immediately, hoping for the usual _Where the fuck’s your phone, shithead,_ when Levi picks up after the first ring _._ But his tone is sombre and tongue short of the usual insults. Levi blurts without ceremony or prior warning.

“We found her.”

Three words, a pretty simple sentence, and it takes Mike a few moments to process their meaning.

_They found her_. But… 

“Mike?”

Taking a deep breath, he looks at his bed, at the pillows he got six months ago; its accents of pale blue adding a vibe to his room she’d enjoy.

“Who are we, Levi?”, he asks carefully, the chill already snaking down his spine.

“Kenny and me. Hurry up.”

Without a word, Mike hangs up, letting both arms fall to dangle on his sides.

Levi and Kenny found her.

And he’s seen enough to know right away it cannot mean any good.

\--

Once in her teenage years, Mina spoke of that matter, navigating through an intense philosophy phase, taking advantage of the stoic little brother she had.

There was no one else who’d willingly listen to her ideas anyway.

“Buddhism, Hinduism, Jainism and Sikhism teach about it. And physics says that energy goes through transformations, but cannot be destroyed! So what if the soul is energy? What then, Mike?”

Beaming with excitement, Mina nearly jumped in her seat, expecting an answer from the 11 year old boy. However, all he could think of was the feeling of the wind in his hair, the view of green fields and forests, of soaring the skies with a mechanism he wasn’t sure physics could explain.

\--

Manoeuvring his Volvo through the usual chaos of rainy nights, Mike’s knuckles turn white on the steering wheel.

In the hurry, he quickly stepped into his sneakers and left the building, unsure if he took his wallet with himself. Still, he presses on the acceleration pedal, a rare occasion of him to leave roaring horns behind. That noise irritated him. Even the radio remained muted, the CD on a halt as he has no headspace for anything else than that one single sentence.

_We found her._

The wipers flick across the windshield impatiently, clearing the view of the main road leading to the forested area outside the suburbs. Mike knows the exact location without asking Levi about it; he’s been there countless times and perhaps he could make it there with bound eyes. It’s a welcomed advantage this time when it’s such a personal visit. He better not crash his car on the way there.

With the acceleration of his vehicle, his mind follows suit; the thoughts racing over possibilities and outcomes of all of this. Mentally he has prepared himself for this moment over the years, through the two published books, and the novel published under a pseudonym, going through possible encounters and his reactions. In the writing process of the novel published under the name Zach Mikkelsen (a rather uncreative pseudonym, but he had no better ideas), one fact has become so painfully clear: From the moment of his awakening, a part of him was missing. Mike Zacharias could only half-live this chance given to him.

_Until now._

\--

The Awakening, as Erwin had called it, is a painful and long process, perhaps triggered with a déjà vu and developed with willpower and endurance. Before it happens, weird dreams haunt the mind, seemingly without a meaning ; just nightmares, that’s what Erwin thought they are, until he saw the man from his dream. Atop the pile of bodies, he was the first one to lie beneath his boots. It was the man who relentlessly held his gaze and he couldn’t look away although he screamed his plea to do so.

Over a bottle of vodka, they talked about their experiences, sewing the few details they had together. It was so difficult to form anything reliable based off of only the experiences of the two of them, but at least it was a start.

They weren’t crazy, they weren’t mentally ill. It wasn’t an illusion.

Everything was so familiar, their voices, their expressions, their drinking habits.

As if they just picked up where they stopped back then.

“All the time I asked myself, what if all the others are out there too”, Erwin slurred, half lying on Mike’s couch. Stretching his leg, he bumped over the empty bottle.

“They must be, just as we are”, Mike nodded, the hope flaring up in his chest.

_Somewhere out there._

\--

10 minutes later, Mike leaves the main road, and after a few more moments, spots the beeches and oaks. Thick and tall, the trees made a great coulisse for splatter movies everyone who has a hang of them would love. It’s a scenery he usually enjoys and pays attention to while driving to the Ackerman house. Yet this time he’s only on the outlook for the secure gates of the establishment, opening as on cue for the expected visitor. Pushing the gas pedal down, he passes through them, bluntly approaching the entrance of the three storey building.

In the dim light, Levi is barely visible, but the adrenaline sharpened Mike’s nightvision enough to recognize the short figure clad in dark standing in the smoker’s corner on the right. A relapse, but that’s not what he’s here for. It’s a topic he’ll approach another time.

Levi fills his lungs with smoke once more before dimming the cigarette on the smoker bin, shoulders tense and hunched. He doesn’t turn to look at the large figure exiting the car. Mike’s hand slips so he slams his door shut with more force than necessary, breaking the quiet of a rainy night in the forest. Levi looks over his shoulder, eyes narrowing.

“Good evening to you as well”, he grumbles.

Ignorant of the remark, Mike asks so unnaturally calm, the danger lurking right underneath: “Where is she?”

The way he approaches him and demands answers, reminds him of the time they were high ranked soldiers. He doesn’t need a flashback to resurface at this time, so he focuses on the Volvo parked right in front of the _fucking_ entrance. Mike never parks like that and the circumstances don’t leave much room for a reminder of the Ackerman house etiquette Kenny just broke earlier that night.

What a good fucking day.

“Ma is with her”, is all he offers quietly before going back in, expecting Mike to follow him.

“Levi…”, stepping over the threshold ,he begins, unsure how to voice it.

“Not now, idiot”, Levi interrupts because Mike’s voice is too low, too tight, and he’s glad not to face him. The examining gaze rests on his back, Levi can feel it on the short hair on his neck, and he drops his shoulders on purpose, trying to look less tense.

But Mike has to know. Just like one of the characters from Mikkelsen’s novel, he can’t keep his mouth shut on things that concern him and truly matter.

 “Did she… recognise you?”

Standing in front of the white office door, Levi’s hand rests upon the doorknob.

“Tell me.”

Prompted by the stern tone, Levi gives him a tired look, slowly shaking his head.

Mike’s stomach follows the doorknob’s motion, dropping deeper than he could think to inflict upon any of his characters.

\--

“Remembrance isn’t a rule”, Hanji twirled her black coffee, her gaze lost in the depths of it. It wasn’t a fancy one nor of good taste, but as their position offered nothing better, a shady gas station coffee could do.

Levi quirked a brow at her. “Not happy to see me again, foureyes?”

“Nah”, she shook her head with a fond smile, “You’ll get my tire fixed!”, she grinned at all three of them, the dirt on her fingers catching Levi’s attention over and over again.

Changing a flat tire without help wasn’t a speciality of hers after all.

“About the remembrance”, Erwin picked up the conversation again while Mike tightened the screws of the new tire, “Care to elaborate?”

“Of course”, she sighed, leaning on the dusty surface of her car. Levi rolled his eyes, yet she didn’t pay attention to him, allowing her white tunica the stains. Having a washing machine is a luxury she’ll use to full potential.

“One of my best students is Moblit. Moblit Berner, 24 years old, bright and skilled just like he was before.  But… there’s no before for him. He doesn’t remember anything.”

Everyone in the round took a moment to let the meaning of those words sink in. Mike’s hands froze over the last screw. It’s not like he and Erwin didn’t think about this possibility before, but having it confirmed for the second time made their hopes shrink even further.

 “I can’t bring myself to trigger him in any way. He asked about how I lost my eye, and for a moment… I wanted to mention Shiganshina, the blast of the Colossus and the well. But he seems so happy now and I don’t wanna ruin that. I owe him as much.”

In a sorrowful tone Hanji, now dr. Hange Zoe, a professor in the chemistry department of the local university, concluded her speech, their collective mood turning melancholic until Levi spoke up.

“Happier as your student than as your assistant. Understandable.”

Chuckling against her will, Hanji threw her empty paper cup at him, giving him a reason to show off his colourful vocabulary. Mike and Erwin exchanged amused glances, and for a moment it felt like before, during one of the rare lighthearted moments.

“You have no idea how much I missed you, guys.”

\--

Inside, Kuchel Ackerman set out tea cups for all three of them to drink in her office, skipping the part of professionalism and the usual fineries she has to maintain with her clients. She offers the tight-lipped and pale Mike a seat after shaking his damp hand, a sign of silent support, to prepare the way for the important part of his visit. Discreetly wiping her hand on the fabric of her trousers, she takes a seat opposite of him, ignoring the small upturn of her son’s brow who sits to their side after filling their cups.

A light rope of steam rises up, twirling in silent suffering.

“Levi called you as soon as he and Kenny found her”, she began softly, threading her fingers on the table, unsure of how much Levi has told him. If he’s told him anything at all. “He couldn’t reach you immediately, but it’s good to have you here, Mike”, she smiles, accentuating the shallow wrinkles around her mouth. He only nods in response, growing audibly impatient as the tapping of his foot against the thin carpet reveals. The expression he wears reminds Levi of the one he had when they filled in the files of the deceased and missing soldiers.

He fucking hates it. He’s always hated it. Averting his gaze, he tried to push the mental image away.

 “Dr. Rheinberger is currently doing a check up to estimate her condition and possible injuries. Afterwards, you can meet her, Mike, but only with my or Dr. Rheinberger’s presence. You see, she… she is not comfortable around males.”

“A fucking understatement”, Levi mutters behind his cup, earning himself a side glance from his mother. This time however she doesn’t warn him on his language. Confirmed in his suspicion, Mike runs a hand over his face, not daring to think about the further implications of Kuchel’s words. The silvery hue of her eye rests upon him, brow tensed in concern she doesn’t try to hide. After what her son has been through, she can recognize the agony of a long search inside of him, around him, the attempts of finding a place in this world. Luckily, Levi’s was to a better outcome.

It’s terrible to crush people’s hopes and dreams, their sole reason for going on, and Levi fidgets with his nearly empty cup, obviously not wanting to witness these moments.

It’s so selfish of him, but he can’t help it.

His mother can deal with that a lot better than him. If he’s any better with emotions than he was back then, then it’s only for a slight nuance, which wouldn’t soften the blow at all.

\--

Levi was the most hesitant to reconnect with them, so the information he could share didn’t come as easy as it did with Hanji. Quietly he listened to them talking, his brows low on his eyes and arms tightly knotted over his chest. If they didn’t know better, they’d think he secretly estimated how much he could tell them at the moment.

“Ma knows a few things”, he loosened his tongue from time to time, gradually relaxing in their circle, “The nightmares and flashbacks, ya know, it began ‘round the time she came back.”

With a shrug, he ended his short speech, expecting a few more questions on that matter.

“She never had anything remotely similar to what you just described?”, Hanji examined further, a hypothesis she had demanding a solution.

“I don’t think so.”

With a serious gaze, she nodded, adding one more sentence in her notes.

“And Kenny? Does he have any recollection of his past life?”, Erwin jumped in, using Levi’s talkativeness.

 Mike looked at them with raised eyebrows.

 Levi shook his head lazily.

“Not that I know, no.”

Kenny? As in Kenny the Ripper, the legend among the Military Police?

“Who’s Kenny?”

All three of them looked at Mike in surprise who was quiet during all of the meeting so far.

“Kenny the Ripper?”, he asked again just to make sure. It was the only Kenny he knew of after all.

“Yeah, we clashed after Utgard”, Hanji mused with reluctance, turning to Levi for help. She wasn’t comfortable with explaining any further, as Mike was already dead by that time and no one dared to say it or mention the topic of their deaths.

“He’s my uncle”, Levi replied with a shrug, distancing himself again in his silence.

\--

“Mrs. Ackerman…”, a short woman opens the office door without knocking, stopping in her tracks once she sees the broad back of the unknown man. Sensing her confusion, Kuchel intervenes motioning to Mike.

 “There is someone who’d like to see the girl before we discuss any further detail.”

The heavy atmosphere of the office is indicator enough for the doctor to choose her words carefully, so she simply offers him a faint smile that doesn’t hide her disapproval. It’s too early to burden her with anything like that, but Dr. Rheinberger knows better than to argue with her boss.

Her establishment, her rules. 

Standing up, Kuchel reaches for Mike’s shoulder over the table.

“Let’s go then”, she smiles encouragingly, leading the way with the Doctor.

The steps he takes towards the door drag out in slow motion. His heart is beating at an unhealthy pace and he closes his eyes to steady himself. If they made it in a world of titans, they will make it in any other, he internally reminds himself, similar to how he did with a character in the first novel he published under his name. No matter what and no matter how much time it will take him, they will make it.

One way or another.

Standing behind them, Levi watches them disappear through the door, his feet still in place.

“Lost like a puppy”, he mumbles, then curses himself for his words. He has yet to figure out a mechanism to stop them at such moments, although it’s clear Mike doesn’t pay attention to his monologues. It’s not like Levi cares that much altogether, it’s just his anxiety kicking in.

 He hurries out of the office, easily catching up with Mike’s step, following his mother’s and the doctor’s pace.

There’s no rush here. The hope can live for a heartbeat longer.

Like in old times, they stand shoulder to shoulder, or elbow to shoulder as Hanji liked to tease, both men a bundle of raw nerves beneath their cold surfaces.

Fuck it, Levi couldn’t leave Mike alone.

\--

Of course Erwin was the first to get his hands on the confidential details. Even as a 25 year old, exactly 8 years younger than Levi, he still knew where to dig to get to the good stuff.

“Ackerman house?”, Hanji asked looking between those two, wondering how many of the Ackermans he’d found.

“Seriously, Erwin, you’re just as fucked up as you were then”, Levi scowls, starting a little discussion.

The Ackerman house was a well-kept secret - “Until now”, Mike threw in, much to Levi’s dismay – about which he didn’t talk publicly. None of them did, in fact, as the secrecy was a necessary key for effective operating.

“Ma started it”, Levi gave up, entrusting them with the core idea behind the establishment,” At first it was a shelter for women who had nowhere to go, fell into the hands of traffickers or got into any kind of shit. Kenny’s _connections_ were strong enough to keep the project funded and going, and over time ma expanded it.”

The expansion meant more risk as dealing with that kind of stuff couldn’t be always done on legal ways. It goes without saying, they nod, unsure how they solve things with the police and other authorities.

 “Kenny’s a cop now and can get away with a lot”, Levi munched on his cake. “I guess there’s something of the Ripper still left in him.”

\--

A glance exchanged between mother and son doesn’t escape his racing mind. The air refreshener fills his nostrils, the synthetic mix causing a throbbing pain in his head he ignores stubbornly. Behind the white door Nanaba awaits, his Nanaba. Shakily sniffing, he can detect her smell stained by blood and dirt.

“This is the room she’ll reside in until we make any further decisions concerning her”, Kuchel explains standing in front of the door, a physical barrier before the bulk of a man. Yet she doesn’t cave in and holds his gaze in a similar fashion to how Levi did everytime he had bad news. Mike knots his arms over his chest, unable to stand the suspense any longer, but Kuchel is unrelenting.

“Levi said you’ll want to take custody over her, but I fear it won’t be possible so soon.”

Custody? Mike narrows his eyes over the word, the others coming after it not registering in his brain.

“Ma”, Levi intervenes from beside Mike, “Cut to the chase and let him inside.”

Tightening her expression, she nods and turns to face the door, Dr. Rheinberger not leaving her side.

The air stills in his lungs with the clink of the doorknob, opening gradually from a tiny crack to enough width for them to pass through. At first Kuchel, then Dr. Rheinberger while Levi stands back, not sure whether to go through the ordeal again or not.

“Nanaba, dear, there is someone who wants to see you”, the doctor announces in a friendly voice, holding her breath while Mike steppes inside under her strict observation. He doesn’t pay attention to her or Kuchel.

The light inside was warm, glowing in golden nuances, a room of comfort and peace, invading his vision with long gone days.

\--

“The light”, she moved the pale lips to whisper in fever, “too bright.”

He dimmed the oil light with trembling fingers, an intruder of this small space, with adoration watching her eyelids relax. She’s still not opening them, still knows nothing about his presence and he couldn’t do anything that would give him away. Even if he did, she wouldn’t remember.

Which Squad Leader would come in the middle of the night to sit beside the hospital bed of his injured soldier much longer than it takes for a simple check up? Mike feared the answer, - so silly of a seemingly fearless man, – tried to run away from its implications and consequences for so long, making up various excuses for how he felt,  for the never-ending thoughts of her, for all the wishes to be in her presence and see her smile. And after the fiasco of that expedition, he was dead exhausted from running, from lying to himself.

Honesty brought him here, the wish to be in the open and show her before she – if she – died due to her sustained injuries. Not that it made a difference, but Mike was so damn sure, he knew the label to put on his feelings and he’ll prove his status as humanities second strongest and show it.

Brushing her cheek lightly with his calloused fingertips, he had to swallow before cupping it entirely, the other hand reaching to her tangled hair leaves were still trapped in, stroking it in a soothing motion before it all could end.

“Nanaba”, he whispered, her unevenly heaving chest urging him to speak, “pull through, Nanaba. I’m here, I won’t leave your side”, he promised in earnest, ready to do all it took him to fulfil it.

\--

The room spins around him and he has to grip Levi’s shoulder to steady himself. Levi’s cold fingers clench around his wrist, “No zoning out now”, he hisses through gritted teeth. He only nods, looking over to the two women, trying to find something to focus on.

Kuchel stands beside the bed Dr. Rheinberger sits on, softly speaking to the figure covered under a thick blanket, curled up in a ball and so… tiny.

He exhales, his subconscious already knowing the truth his conscious refused to accept.

Levi’s nails dig into his flesh.

Kuchel kneels down, trying once more to coax Nanaba into removing the blanket and showing herself.

“You are safe now, Nanaba, there is nothing to fear. Look, Levi is here too”, she glances back to her son, giving him a sign.

 “She’s not lying to you”, Levi says letting go of his arm, and with that bundle beneath the covers stirs.

Mike remains standing on a safe distance, trying his best to look unthreatening to her, hoping to every existing deity that she’ll recognize him, that it’s nothing that cannot be fixed, that he can do something, anything, and that she’ll -

Slowly, the blonde head emerges from the white blanket, then a pointy shoulder, then a thin arm tightly clutching a stuffed animal to her chest and his breathing stops.

Without Levi’s hand around his wrist, he bites the inside of his cheek in front of the bitter realisation.

“See? What a good girl”, Kuchel smiles motherly, their gazes meeting for a split second. Then Nanaba’s gaze wanders to the Doctor, raising her shoulders in a defensive manner.

“Nanaba”, Levi calls her and her head snaps towards the direction of his voice, “Do you recognize him?”, he points at Mike, his forehead wrinkled in anticipation.

\--

It’s a piece of information he got from Ian.

After long negotiations with his editor, Mike agreed to a few signing sessions in the town’s bookstore and a handful of others in towns nearby. Closeness with his fans is important, and no, it wasn’t easier for writers in the past, “because did you hear of Marlene Haushofer? The Austrian writer? Look, man, if she agreed on her editor’s suggestions for reading events and signing sessions, she’d be huge now! Wanna know why she’s not? Because she shied away from her audience just like you!”

His editor wasn’t exactly right. It’s not like he shied away from his audience. Mike genuinely enjoyed the contact he had with them online because he still had some control over it, whereas he had to hand it entirely over in public signing sessions. And when he spotted the poster on the bookshop window with his photo on it, he had to cringe internally. Well, at least he could supervise the plan before his editor set it into motion.

Although quite nervous, it turned out to be a nice experience, with crowds gathering in and outside the shop to see him and perhaps ask a question or two. However on the last one, a town that took them 3 hours to reach by car, his mood dropped visibly, as the previous night was long and exhausting. Not in the shape to drive, he let his editor take over the wheel. Zoning out on the highway was a risk he didn’t like to take.

10 minutes before the session was to end, a man hurried through the door, taking long strides towards the desk Mike sat on. He didn’t raise his gaze. Swiftly writing his name on the first page for the two middle aged ladies, he gave them a faint smile when returning the books, out of sheer courtesy. It made him see like a douche, but he couldn’t help it.

Mike needed a break. Some alone time. Perhaps a trekking adventure.

Long fingers wrapped around the opened book entered his field of vision. Mike pointed the pen to the paper, asking: “For…?”

“For Ian Dietrich”, the man spoke.

After no response from Mike came, only a stare of disbelief, he quietly added: “From the Garrison.”

 

Unsure of where to start and where to stop, they jumped from topic to topic over the cup of tea in a café across the street. Ian was doing good with his newly started winery. Although being in his mid-twenties, the sharpness of his features remained, and after Mike disclosed the information he had, Ian did so too.

 “I met Rico. Rico Brzenska, the short elite with the goggles who always bantered with Gelgar”, he quickly explained, and it dawned on Mike.

“Right, the captain”, he nodded, a small smile playing around the corners of his lips with the mention of Gelgar.

“Exactly. I found her, but…”, he stopped, parting his lips a few times to speak, but remained soundless. After a sigh, he resumed: “This revival, or call it as you like, messed with our ages. Rico is already 43, and I’m 26, although I was the older one back then”, his fingers drummed against the table’s surface, “Also, she’s happily married. So, yeah.”

Later that night, Mike phoned Hanji, informing her of the encounter and the information he gathered.

Afterwards, he sat at his kitchen table and wrote the first half of Zach Mikkelsen’s novel in one go.

\--

Blue as the clear skies in spring, yet so shy and fearful. Over her shoulder, her eyes meet Mike’s, and for a moment she doesn’t blink nor breathe.

“Nanaba…”, he calls out softly, or whispers out,-  he truly couldn’t say as his own voice seemed unfamiliar to him -, trying to help her go back, help her remember. However, her gaze remains blank; there is no hint of recognition, there isn’t anything at all.

The realisation hits him straight into the guts even before she turns away from him, seeking shelter under the blanket. From underneath it, she shakes her head, but it doesn’t matter anymore. To Nanaba, Mike is a stranger; she has no memories of him, of them, and this life hasn’t been kind with her either.

And that’s exactly what hurts Mike the most.

 

The rain is still pouring when they step outside, Levi for another cigarette and Mike for some fresh air. He’s almost chocking on the one inside, the pain in his temples gaining intensity.

Listening to the raindrops shattering on the ground, they stand together, the clouds of smoke slowly rising from Levi’s lips.

Every world and every life is fucked up on its own special way, he guesses, his guts twisting in disgust by what he has found out earlier. He gives Mike a brief summary of what he knows: sold by her parents to a cult, Nanaba was to be sacrificed in an occult ritual as the embodiment of the Aryan race – milky skin, bright blue eyes, blonde locks, smart and virginal.

“She was kept in a basement with some other kids by a small fish of the cult.”

After taking another drag of the cigarette, he continued.

 “Kenny was on his heels for something entirely else. We stormed his house, and while Kenny had a _civil chat_ with him, I noticed the trapdoor and the sounds from down there.”

If it wasn’t for the children kept there, no way was he gonna step into any fucking basement, as one has messed with his head enough for the next ten lifetimes. However, he couldn’t leave them behind as collateral damage. Do the job properly or don’t bother at all, that’s what mother has always insisted on.

“So”, he side eyed Mike, “about the custody. Kenny can pull some strings to arrange it.”

Mike keeps his lips sealed as well as his arms around his chest, completely still. Ditching the cigarette in the bin, Levi doesn’t think much of it. Being out in such circumstances is familiar to all of them, and now away from her, he could have a few minutes of it. But he’s not gonna repeat the story again. Once was enough, and if Mike didn’t listen, then he’ll hand the situation over to Kuchel.

Levi’s had more than enough of this shitshow for the day.

\--

As a mother herself, Kuchel soothes the 10 year old in the warm water, giving her a yellow duck to float with the soapbubbles which gains her attention. With her sleeves rolled up to her elbows, she washes her hair gently, making sure to keep her movements measured and non-threatening to the child. There is a little hint of panic as the shampoo reaches thereyes, but Dr. Rheinberger is quick to hand over a clean towel.

“Thanks, Anka.”

The doctor nods in response, holding the stuffed koala toy in the Nanaba’s sight. Coaxing her into handing the plush animal over took quite some effort. It was all she could hold onto, the last remains of her childhood. Kuchel makes a mental note to arrange a meeting with a counsellor of trust. The neglect and abuse she endured in her captivity couldn’t be entirely washed off with the dirt and blood, nor cleaned like the little wounds she sustained; obviously, they couldn’t treat her mind’s wounds as easily. It will require a professional to do so.

Freshly rinsed off, Kuchel told her to rise from the bathtub which she shyly did. Head hanging low and lanky arms shielding the childish body, she allows Kuchel to wrap a towel around her frame, hide her bruises and shame.

Nanaba clutches tightly onto it.

“We have some spare clothes here. I hope you’ll like them”, she presents her the indigo pants and a warm looking sweater in baby pink, “Now let’s get you dressed and – “

The loud growling of Nanaba’s stomach interrupts Kuchel and the child stiffens.

“Oh, dear”, she smiles kneeling down to her, “You’re hungry, aren’t you? We have warm soup in the kitchen left. Do you like soup, Nanaba?”

With fearful eyes, she looks at Kuchel but says nothing.

Watching the scene unfold, Dr. Rheinberger tightens her hold around the koala.

\--

They flew together, they fought together, and Mike feels it - they died only hours apart.

With a gasp he returns, the front of his Volvo gazing at him in wordless sympathy, and he needs a moment to ground himself. He runs his hands over his face and hair, then steps outside to feel the rain on his skin. Cold and unrelenting, the raindrops soaked his face, gathered in his facial hair and travelled to his neck.

He’s alive and he’s here.

And Nanaba is too.

From the smoker’s corner, Levi watches him closely, the crease between his brows deepening as Mike returnes to stand beside him, leaning against the wall to sink deeper in the shadows.

“Tell Kenny I want the custody”, the gravel of his voice announces.

The long bangs cover his face. Levi cannot see his eyes.

“You sure?”

He hums in approval, then adds: “I promised her.”

The silvery hue drops to the point of his shoes, the leather of them showing small stains of dust visible even in the dark. He understands the burden, the weight of it, how it crashes the dams of sanity and pushes a man over the edge.

The inkling begins creeping in his guts so his lower lips tenses in concern.

“Hey”, Levi warned, “Don’t do something fucked up, Mike.”

He might have heard the words, but he has no intention to listen to them. Swiftly pulled from his pocket, the keys jingle sadly in their flip before landing in the expanse of his palm. The short light up of the Volvo’s blinkers illuminate Levi’s darkened face, but Mike isn’t looking back. Moving too fast for a man of such a stature, he storms into his Volvo before Levi could stop him. The resolve stands.

“Hey!”, Levi calls in defeat as Mike turns his car harshly, leaving marks into the dampened ground. The sensors register the movements and the gates open for the dark blue Volvo.

Hitting the gas pedal, Mike races off into the darkness to confront the one held within him.

**Author's Note:**

> If you read this far, then thank you very much for taking the time to do so!  
> Any feedback on this work is very welcomed. It's been my longest so far, so yeah :) Quite an adventure to explore this verse.  
> Have an enjoyable day/night! :)


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